


Itch Wriggle Scratch (Llama Saga #5)

by laylee



Series: Llama Saga [5]
Category: Sports Night
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laylee/pseuds/laylee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie's sick and the llamas lend a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Itch Wriggle Scratch (Llama Saga #5)

Itch.

Wriggle.

Scratch.

Itch.

Wriggle…

"Charlie, stop that!"

Casey pinned his son with the sternest of stern looks just as Charlie's hand crept up to scratch at the spots decorating his cheek.

"But dad, it itches!"

Casey's expression softened a little. "I know it does Charlie, but you've got to try and ignore it. You don't want to end up with an infection."

Charlie glowered at his father like he almost believed him, but not quite.

"Having chickenpox isn't much fun, is it?" Casey said sympathetically, realizing how much it must suck to be thirteen and stuck at home in bed for the first week of summer vacation.

"No."

"I don't remember having much fun with it either."

"How long do I have to stay in bed?" Charlie asked, plucking at the sheets. "I don't feel that sick."

"I think your mom said another day or so. You're lucky it's only a mild bout." Casey raised his eyebrows. "Bored, eh?"

"Out of my brain."

"Well then. It's just as well I brought this with me."

Casey took a large brown-paper carry bag from where it rested on the floor near his feet and up-ended it on the bed. Out tumbled an assortment of DVDs, video games, comics, magazines, candy and other odds and ends. He smiled as Charlie's face lit up with glee.

"We had a collection at work," Casey said, sorting through the jumble on the bed. "The DVDs are from me. Jeremy got the comics and said if that you've already got them, let him know and he'll take them back to the store and change them for you."

Charlie snatching up one of the comics. "Cool, the new _X-Men_!"

"Dana and Natalie sent the candy, Isaac got you some magazines and the games are from Danny."

"Can Danny come and visit?" Charlie asked, eyes wide and pleading. His face fell when Casey said no.

"He hasn't had chickenpox, Charlie. Maybe he can drop by when you're a little less contagious."

"My friends can't come over either," Charlie said dejectedly. "Their parents don't want them catching some hideous disease that will leave them scarred for life. I'm so booored!" he cried, collapsing dramatically against the pillows.

"Nothing much I can do, kiddo," Casey said sympathetically. "You've just got to wait it out."

"This sucks," Charlie muttered. One hand crept toward the spots on his neck.

"Charlie!"

Charlie scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We also thought you might like this," Casey said, placing another bag on the bed.

"What is it?" Charlie asked, his disgruntled expression easing.

"Open it."

Charlie took the bag and pulled it open, peering inside.

"Jesus, dad! Do I look like a two year-old?" he demanded as he pulled out two familiar toy llamas.

"We thought they could keep you company," Casey said, placing Ceazar and Babbette on the nightstand.

Charlie rolled his eyes in best sullen teenager style. Casey knew that Charlie thought his and Dan's attachment to the llamas was weird (and maybe it was, just a little) but he also knew that there was something about these llamas and that before long, Charlie would see it as well.

Casey checked his watched and frowned. He didn't realise it was that late.

"I've got to get going, Charlie."

"Do you have to go, dad?" Charlie pleaded, suddenly turning into a little boy who wanted his daddy.

Casey wavered, feeling powerless under the onslaught of his child's need. He so wanted to stay and keep Charlie company some more. But unfortunately, as it did much too often, duty called.

"I wish I could stay, but I've got an interview at four-thirty. I'll be back tomorrow, Charlie, I promise."

Charlie slumped against the pillows again, crestfallen. "I guess."

Casey reluctantly got to his feet. He reached out a hand touched Charlie's hair, his fingers caressing the soft strands for a moment.

"See you then, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

~*~*~

Charlie shifted against the pillows and adjusted the copy of _Rolling Stone_ that he was reading a little higher. He was trying to concentrate on the CD reviews, but no matter what position he sat in, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

"Would you two quit staring at me!" he demanded, glaring at the llamas that sat benignly on his dresser.

Stupid toys. God knows why his dad thought they would make him feel better.

Charlie absently scratched at an itchy patch on his arm and went back to his magazine, turning a page so he could at least feel like he was getting somewhere. But he couldn't concentrate on the words and after he had read the same sentence five times, he tossed it aside with a disgusted snort.

"Oh for crying out loud."

He jumped off the bed and crossed the room, reaching out to snatch Ceazar off the dresser, the llama letting go a soft baa as Charlie's fingers squeezed him in the middle.

Charlie paused and looked at the llama, his eyes blinking rapidly. He squeezed Ceazar again and couldn't help smiling when the llama baaed again. He reached out and picked Babbette off the dresser, giving her a squeeze. She didn't baa but her fur felt soft beneath his fingers and she had the biggest, brownest llama eyes...

Shaking his head, Charlie set the llamas on the dresser again and returned to bed. He grabbed the magazine and started reading where he left off, scratching his chest absently and wondering if there was any Jell-O and ice cream left.

~*~*~

Charlie couldn't remember the nightmare that wrenched him from sleep. The jumble of seething images and harsh feelings started to fade almost as soon as he opened his eyes. Yet they left him shaking and panting for breath as he wished he wasn't too old to sleep with a night-light.

Untangling himself from the covers, Charlie snapped on the light and gazed about his room like it was suddenly strange and alien. But really it was just the same as always. The same bookcase containing the same jumble of books, DVDs, video games and assorted odds and ends. The same desk with the same computer and printer. The same posters on the walls; the same hockey stick jostling for space with his tennis racket in the corner. And that was definitely his bathrobe hanging from a hook on the back of the door.

Charlie shivered and huddled under the covers. For a moment he considered waking his mother and asking if he could sleep with her, but dismissed the thought almost as soon as he'd had it. He was thirteen, dammit. Only little kids crawled into bed with their mommy's after a bad dream.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Charlie turned off the light and settled on his side. He lifted his hand to scratch at a particularly itchy spot on his nose then dropped it again as his dad's firm voice echoed in his mind.

Remnants of the dream lingered. Nothing tangible. More like memories of feelings and emotion. Unsettling enough, even in their vagueness.

He sighed and rolled over, his hand creeping up once again. Suddenly his bed was hard and unyielding, the sheets and comforter hot and uncomfortable.

Charlie rolled over again and was about to push back the covers and go knock on Lisa's door when something caught his eye.

Feeling more than a little foolish, but strangely compelled to do so, Charlie scrambled out of bed and snatched Ceazar and Babbette off his dresser. Holding them in one hand, he dove back under the covers and hastily settled himself again. He placed the llamas next to his pillow, unwilling to actually clutch them to his chest like he really wanted to.

Charlie pulled the covers over his shoulders and reached out to turn off the light. He settled on his side and blinked at the two shapes squatting beside him in the dark. On impulse he reached out and patted each one on the head.

"'Night, Ceazar. 'Night Babbette."

He scratched a spot on his nose and then he went to sleep.

~*~*~

"Hey Danny."

"Hey, it's Spot," Dan said brightly as Charlie hovered at the door to his office.

Charlie frowned. "Don't call me that."

"What should I call you then? Rover?"

Charlie glowered at him in true McCall fashion. "Shut up, Dan."

Dan wiped the smile from his face. "Whatever you say, sir

Groaning, Charlie brushed past Dan into the office and headed toward the couch, setting a brown-paper carry bag on the floor as he plonked down.

"Where's dad?" he asked.

"Talking to some tight-ass from finance about his expenses for last month. He won't be long."

"Are you coming to lunch with us?"

"Am I invited?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't."

Charlie heaved a frustrated sigh. "Are you coming or not?"

Dan thought for a moment. "I suppose we should do something to celebrate your first day of freedom."

"Can we go to Burger King?"

"It's your choice, man."

Charlie beamed at him. "Cool!"

"What's in the bag?" Dan asked, straddling an office chair and rolling it across the floor.

"Oh, that's for you," Charlie replied, handing it to Dan.

Dan took the bag and looked inside, smiling when he saw Ceazar and Babbette gazing back at him.

"Ah, the weary travelers return." He got up to place the llamas in their usual spot in the bookcase. "Did you have fun with your Uncle Charlie?"

"They were cool," Charlie said nonchalantly.

Dan glanced over his shoulder at the younger McCall who was regarding him benignly from the couch. Usually Charlie would go pink with mortification if either he or Casey so much as mentioned the llamas in his presence. Now he thought they were cool? Something had certainly changed in the last couple of weeks.

"You, err, feeling okay, Charlie?"

"I'm fine." Charlie blinked at him. "Why?"

"No reason."

"Okay."

A couple of moments later Casey blew into the office.

"Hey, Charlie," he said, crossing to the couch and dropping a kiss on his sons' head. "You're early."

Charlie shrugged. "Mom had some stuff to do."

"Well I've just got to go and see Isaac and we can head out. Where do you want to go for lunch?"

Dan and Charlie exchanged a look.

"Burger King!" they chorused.

"Guess I'm out numbered," Casey laughed.

They grinned at him.

"You better believe it, Casey." Dan said.

Casey shook his head and picked up a file from the desk. "Back in a minute," he said and disappeared out the door.

Suddenly Dan remembered an errand of his own and grabbed a tape from the table.

"I've got to give this to Elliot," he told Charlie. "Will you be alright on your own?"

"Jeez, Danny..." Charlie rolled his eyes and gave him a 'What do you think?' look.

Dan hefted the tape. "I'll be back."

Five minutes later, Dan was engaged in a little friendly to and fro about how he wanted the tape cut as opposed to how Elliot wanted to do it when he looked over at his office and saw something he truly never expected to see. Charlie, standing at the bookcase, cradling Babbette against his chest with one hand as he stroked Ceazar with the other. Smiling, Dan chuffed a quiet laugh.

"What's so funny?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah, what is so funny?" Casey asked, coming up from behind.

Dan nodded toward the office.

"I knew he'd find out," Casey murmured softly.

"Find out what?" Elliot asked.

But Dan knew what he meant without even having to ask. He looked at Casey, watching him watch his son. After a moment Casey shifted his gaze toward Dan and they both smiled.

 

FIN


End file.
